Author's Note: I've been on the Dimidue train for a while, so it's about time I wrote something for these two. Several orders of business: This is shortly before the Kingdom rides to the Alliance's aid in Chapter 19 of Azure Moon, assume Dimitri and Dedue's A Support has already happened, and Dimitri's got his New Game+ hair here. Now enjoy some soft Dimidue, please.

Stay With Me

Dimitri wanted to tell Dedue that he didn't need to do this. He was fine; he could handle himself. Really, he could take care of his own appearance—

Then again, Dimitri had spent most of the past five years neglecting even basic hygiene. Although he was trying to do better now, he couldn't blame anyone who assumed otherwise. And there was a part of Dimitri, deep down, that knew Dedue understood he was improving. Dedue simply wanted to do something for him, give him some small gesture that would help him along anyway.

And that was how Dimitri found himself in his room back at Garreg Mach (though, really, it wasn't "his" anymore, if he thought about it—everyone had simply taken to their old chambers from their academy days for nostalgia's sake) with Dedue carefully running a comb through his hair. The motions were…comforting, to be honest. Dimitri had had so little non-hostile contact over the past few years that it was nice to have someone tending to him like this.

Finally, he felt Dedue tie something into his hair, and the other man set down the comb. Dimitri's one good eye flickered over to the small mirror on his desk—a recent gift from Mercedes, which she'd claimed was a small token of appreciation for his efforts in turning himself around—as Dedue spoke.

"How do you like it, Dimitri?"

The barest hint of a smile came over Dimitri's face as he examined himself. He wasn't sure if it was entirely due to his appearance, or if it was because Dedue was already getting better at using his name. He did look quite presentable, though. No, more than that—Dimitri even dared to think he looked good.

His hair was no longer the matted mane he'd let it become. Dedue had worked out all of the tangles and mostly smoothed it down, pulling part of it back into a small ponytail. Finally, he'd swept most of Dimitri's bangs to the side, which somehow made the eye patch look less pronounced.

"It looks wonderful, Dedue. Thank you."

"It was the least I could do."

Dimitri was quiet for a moment, though he stood up and glanced over at him. Dedue was silent as well, though there was an almost expectant look on his face, as if there was something he still wanted to say. Eventually, Dimitri cleared his throat awkwardly and shook his head.

"You already do enough for me—you know that, right?"

Dedue shrugged, looking away. "I could never do enough, truthfully. But I am glad you are pleased anyway."

Honestly, Dimitri thought, he was the one who didn't do enough for Dedue. He'd thrown himself headfirst into serving him—doing anything Dimitri had or would ask of him. Dimitri worried sometimes that Dedue didn't do enough for himself between all of his efforts to please him (though he noted with some darkly-amused irony that he was hardly one to lecture others on taking care of themselves). Dedue had even gone so far as to nearly get himself killed, just to save Dimitri's life.

And that caused Dimitri to swallow nervously. He'd spent so much time thinking Dedue was dead; literal years of guilt had built up, contributing to Dimitri's already precarious state of mind. He had already depended greatly on Dedue before, but that had made him realize exactly how much Dimitri needed to have him nearby.

(The other ghosts of his past weren't so lucky. Despite Dimitri trying to silence them, none of his other dear friends and family members would ever come back to him. Their voices still lingered in the back of his mind in spite of his best efforts, and Dedue had been among them for five long years.)

"Then," Dimitri said, voice trembling slightly, "promise me something. If you want to do more for me, Dedue, then…you must promise to never leave me again."

Dedue looked taken aback, and Dimitri could hardly blame him. Despite having been told already how cherished he was, the near desperation in Dimitri's request had to be sudden. He glanced away and fiddled with his hands, surprised he'd even kept his voice that steady.

(However, there was a small part of Dimitri that appreciated the open expression on Dedue's face as he looked back up at him. It was rare for Dedue to display his feelings like that, after all.)

Finally, Dedue replied, "If that is what you want, then…I promise. Never again; you have my word."

There was a thick silence between the two for several seconds, and Dimitri swallowed again. Well, now he'd gone and made things awkward, hadn't he? And not even the amusing or endearing kinds of awkward, either; both of them were left not knowing what to say next. Curses—for the goddess's sake, why had Dimitri done that?

Without really thinking about it, Dimitri found himself taking a few steps toward Dedue and grabbing him by the arms. Dedue quietly raised an eyebrow; no verbal response, but he was clearly expecting an explanation. And Dimitri didn't really have one, other than the ever-pressing desire to have Dedue nearby.

"I…thank you, Dedue. Again," he mumbled. "Please; that's all I need. Just…stay by my side. You…really are precious to me, you know?"

"If that is truly all you need, then I would gladly do it. And…you are to me, as well."

Dimitri's hands tightened around Dedue's arms as the words rang in his ears. They brought him perhaps too much joy—then again, the line between him and Dedue had always been far too hazy to really be "normal." Maybe that should've been concerning, but Dimitri didn't think it was.

They fell into silence once more, and Dimitri found himself idly examining Dedue's face (it was so close to his own). His gaze moved over the numerous scars now decorating Dedue's skin and paused to appreciate the deep green of his eyes before settling on Dedue's lips. It would be so easy to lean over and see what they felt like, to show Dedue just how deeply he treasured him, and Dimitri swallowed again, losing track of just how long he stared at them.

…Dimitri could come up with some kind of explanation that the scar running over the side of Dedue's mouth had led him there, but it sounded half-baked even in his own mind. Why had he—

"Dimitri…we should be going. The others will be waiting for us."

Dedue's voice snapped Dimitri out of his trance. Right; there would be a war meeting in the cardinal's room soon. Everyone was meeting to discuss a few last-minute plans for coming to the Alliance's aid. They'd really only stopped back at the monastery after retaking Fhirdiad to give the army some time to regroup, after all.

And yet, despite Dedue's words, one of his hands had come to settle on Dimitri's shoulder. When had that gotten there? It proceeded to move upwards tentatively, and, after several painfully-long seconds, Dedue's fingers traced over Dimitri's jaw before falling back to his arm. Dedue's touch was…comforting and warm, just as much as (and maybe even more than) Byleth's was, and Dimitri found himself wishing that Dedue would do it again.

Neither of them spoke for a few more seconds. Finally, Dimitri cleared his throat and let his hands fall back to his sides. Dedue lowered his hand as well, and Dimitri broke the silence.

"Y-yes, you're right. We should get going."

With that, the two of them left the room. As they headed out, Dimitri found himself walking closer to Dedue than he normally would have—and Dedue did nothing to increase the space between them.

Perhaps this…whatever was going on…Dimitri would find words for eventually. (He already had, to an extent, but…he wasn't precisely there yet, and that frustrated him.) But for now, he supposed all that mattered was that Dedue was alive and well, and Dimitri had his promise that he'd stay there. That really was all he needed.

Once they arrived, several of the other Blue Lions commented on Dimitri's appearance—Mercedes was the most complimentary, practically gushing, "Why, you look so dashing with your hair like that!"—and he'd smiled and directed everyone's praise to Dedue. For his part, Dedue accepted it quietly, though there was the absolute smallest hint of a smile on his face as they sat down.

And, much to Dimitri's delight, Dedue did nothing to brush him away when he idly took Dedue's hand under the table as the meeting dragged on. Instead, Dedue's fingers tightened around his own, and it was that small gesture that fully convinced Dimitri that they'd both be all right.